Never Say Never Ever
by gabbicav
Summary: He'd told her that once never say never ever. It felt like a dream now, but out of everything they'd been through, those four words were those Rose cherished and clung to. He’d meant it as a warning, when he’d said it...but Rose took it in her own context
1. Voidstuff

Chapter 1: Voidstuff. 

**_Author's Notes:_**_ Hiya...here 'tis, my first original whofic. Bit nervous about it actually, I hope you like it, the story's literally bursting to get out of me. A bit of Torchwood, a bit of 10Rose...just a bit of an adventure. Spoilers everywhere! I've had this loaded up on whofic - dot - com for a little while under my account there (Angeline) and thought I'd submit it here too to get some feedback - let me know what you think!_

* * *

The sphere gleamed, a glowing gold beacon of silent, mute wonderment for all humankind. 

Which is why Adam wondered at his colleague's sudden pallor.

"…what's the matter?"

"Don't touch it," she breathed slowly, a glimmer of wildfire in her eyes. "Promise me you won' touch it."

"I don't understand," Adam crossed his brows, looking down at his palm pilot, tapping some figures with the stylus. The Sphere was pure alien genius; it had overcome gravity, mass, detection. Why was she so worried about _touching_ it? They could learn so much-

"- Jus' — trust me," Rose turned to Adam, her face serious. "I don't care where you found it, jus' get it out of here. Keep it quiet, yeah? Seal it away, wrap it up, and send it into the sun, as fast as you can," Rose was moving, backwards, out of Adam's lab.

"So, you _do_ know what it is," a grin broke out on Adam's face.

"Come across one before, yeah," Rose muttered. "Adam, you're not listenin' to me. This isn't a joke, if that thing opens, there's _no one_ to-"

"But, what is it?" if she wasn't going to explain, he wasn't going to hide the great lack of concern in his voice.

"It doesn't _matter_-"

"Yes it does," Adam gazed. "It's like a great Pandora's box, to me. It's my job to study these things. And yours, need I remind you?"

"You don't want to study _that_ too closely, trust me."

"How can I even begin to understand your reasoning here, when you won't tell me what it is?" Adam protested.

---

Rose felt a headache coming on. Adam — she had to keep reminding herself, not _her_ Adam — excelled in protesting every decision she tried to make with more questions. If only they were a military operation, she could simply order him to obey-  
Rose shuddered.

_"Obey! Obey!"_

"Okay, maybe not," she shrugged off the sudden image of a Dalek in her face.

"Maybe not…what?" Adam hesitated. Rose wondered if he was about to offer her a cup of tea. He had that caring, but calculating look in his eyes.

Rose focussed. How to explain..."'K...you remember the Cybers, Adam?"

Adam crossed his arms, "I mustn't do. Remind me."

Before she could continue;

"Oh, wait? You mean the robots that went around chopping off people's heads and sealing them in metal?" a sarcastic glare, the caring look gone. No cup of tea then. "Of course I remember them, Rose. Are you saying the sphere is theirs?"

"What I'm _sayin'_, if you'll let me speak, is that sphere is more a threat than the Cybers ever were. Last time I saw one of them, it...look, it's a million times worse than anything your Cybermen could have done," Rose shook her head, half-laughing. "And we're still standin' here next to it, a ticking time bomb," she turned her gaze to the sphere, a little hopelessly. "How did you get here? What are you _doin'_ here?"

Adam moved to Rose's side, looking oddly between her and the sphere.

"Um, earth to Rose? This is Torchwood calling. It's alien, it's ours and all that," Adam raised his eyebrows.

Rose continued to stare at, and address, the sphere. "You have no idea where you are, do you? Well, let me warn you now, don't even _think_ about openin'. Not on my watch," she turned back to Adam, shaking a little.  
"Now, listen to me, for once in your life, and ge' it out of here."

Adam started to protest again, but Rose cut him off.

"No, shut it, Adam. I'm serious. You've got a million and one other fun alien gizmos to study; you can give up this one big gold ball. I want it strapped to a rocket set for the sun before tea time."

"All right, all right," Adam glared, throwing his palm pilot onto his desk.

Rose pointed at it, trying to smile, "You break that, you bought it, remember?"

Adam shook his head and rolled his eyes.

Rose hesitated. The Adam on her earth had promised not to touch anything, as well, and ended up with a hole in his head, opening with a click of the fingers.

Adam picked up his two-way and glanced up at Rose.

"Jus'...do it," she warned him, hands on hips.

Adam blinked and turned away.

"Renee, I've got a problem with the sphere."

Rose, a last glance at the inert sphere, strode from the room, resolving to page Renee and make sure she and the other rocket scientists followed up on Adam's reluctant request.

Once outside Adam's lab, she could think again. She'd forgotten that the sphere oppressed one's own soul. It had been sitting there in the void, all alone, and suddenly decided to materialise. Why? Where had it come through? Who checked it in here?

Rather than continuing to chew over the possibilities, Rose visited the dispatch department on B5 — that was, basement five.

----------

The basement - though, perhaps _warehouse_ would have been a more appropriate word - was about half full of oddly shaped crates and shipping containers. Since Torchwood's reestablishment, almost 2 long years ago, they'd collected quite a bit of alien junk. Well, most of it was junk.  
Rose rounded on the dispatch manager with a smile.

"Hullo Alun!" she called merrily.

Alun, in his forties with a set of mutton chops, cast a grin at Rose and then shrugged. "Whatever it is, I didn't do it Miss Tyler!"

"Ah, I'll bet you didn't," Rose rolled her eyes. Miss Tyler indeed. "Look, a big gold sphere was checked in here in the last couple of days, did you happen to see it? Maybe remember who brough' it in?"

"Big gold sphere? How big?" Alun started climbing down out of the forklift he'd been sitting in.

"Oh, say, yay-big?" Rose stretched her arms as wise as she could. "Maybe bigger? C'mon, not many big gold spheres come through here, not like this," she couldn't help raising her voice a little. This wasn't a game, and a desperation in her voice was breaking through. It was taking an alarming amount of control to keep her voice in a conversational tone.

Alun raised his eye brows, "Think you know everythin', don't you, Missy Tyler."

"But, you remember it?" she pressed.

"Of course I don't _remember_ it, I ain't paid to remember every sodding piece of space junk that comes in," he waved his hand in the direction of the half-filled vastness beyond them.

Rose tried not to roll her eyes. "But you're paid to write it all down," she tried not to snap. "I'll go to the record rooms myself, sorry to bother you," she pursed her lips, turning on her heel and marching towards the administration box in the corner of the warehouse.

"Last time I ask that grumpy old sod for help, got mood swings like he has menopause..." Rose muttered to herself.

----------

Rose weaved through the cluttered administration room, seating herself at one of the six incoming goods terminals. Small displays, displaying live camera feeds of each warehouse door, showed mixes scenes of complacency in some, and order in others.

Turning her attention to the terminal, Rose queried the incoming goods database for records from the past three days.

_5236 entries found. Would you like to narrow your search?_

"Jus' a tad," Rose muttered to herself again.  
5236 incoming goods in the past _3 days_?! They were getting popular all of a sudden.  
She refined it to anything logged into basement five.

_1409 entries found. Would you like to narrow your search?_

"Goddamnit, where's Mickey when I need him," Rose hit the screen. Mickey never had any trouble getting the Torchwood databases to bend over backwards for him. But he was onsite somewhere, out of range, as usual.

She refined it to search for the same, with a description of "sphere". This time, the terminal reported a thankful _38 entries found_.

"That's more like it," she grinned, clicking on the first entry.

She blinked as the photo loaded. A small metal ruler had been set next to it to give some reference of scale to whoever bothered to read the entry. There it was! The same sphere that had been in Adam's lab.

Scanning, she saw that its arrival had been logged twelve hours ago, and it had been found close to Swansea by the gamma salvage team.

Swansea?! What the hell was Torchwood London doing in Swansea?

Clicking back, Rose noticed the sphere hadn't been the only goods logged on gamma's Swansea salvage.  
"What else did you find?" she wondered, clicking the second record.

The photo loaded, and Rose's eyes widened. Another sphere? Must be a mistake, she'd clicked number 1 again, for sure.

Back. She clicked entry 3. Another Sphere. Back — clicked entry 4 — sphere! Back — entry 5 — sphere!

"How many are there?" she stood, yelling at the screen.

"I'd say, thirty-eight, by the looks?"

Rose spun around and came face to face with Renee, head of rocket science.

Renee's lips were pursed, in either disapproval or amusement, it was hard to tell. She nodded to the screen. "Thirty-eight of 'em, and no one, but yourself, has the slightest idea what they are."

"Renee, thank god. Did Adam-"

"Oh, yes. Adam's told us you've ordered the sphere in his office be sent into the far reaches of space or something equally dramatic-"

"Not into space, into the sun, it has to be destroyed, not set free-"

"Yes, yes, the sun," Renee waved her hand dismissively.

"And the rest of them," Rose pointed to the screen. "Same goes for them too."

"I gathered as much, but _Rose_-" Renee started.

"Good," Rose sighed. "When do they leave?"

Renee gave Rose an imploring look. "Please, tell me why we're doing this. You've the authority, sure, but it doesn't make any _sense_ to send these discoveries away, Rose. You're usually all over this stuff. Why this find?"

Rose closed her eyes. "Because usually, this stuff doesn't include Daleks."

"What on earth's a dalek? Is that what they're called?" she nodded to the photo on the screen.

Rose shook her head. They just had to trust her. They'd had no trouble the past two years trusting her knowledge (and sometimes complete bollocks) of alien tech.

Rose started getting angry. "Fine. No. The sphere is a void spaceship. It has been sitting in hell for god-knows how long, and somehow got through to earth, falling onto a grey beach in Swansea for gamma team to dig up."

"It's a ship?" Renee's eyes lit up, ignoring Rose's concern, her anger. "We've got thirty-eight weightless, undetectable spaceships and you want me to _send them into the sun_?"

"Will you listen to me!?" Rose yelled. "It's not the spaceships; it's what's inside them that we need to fear. You can't even begin to imagine the death we could spread if jus' one of those ships opens up. Do as I say, or we all die. There's no Doctor or time vortex or, or -" she searched those memories - "or 3D glasses to help us this side."

Renee looked like she was about to either cry, or scream.  
"Please," Rose implored. "Renee, this has _got_ to be done."

"This is ridiculous. Even if something should go wrong, the labs are all fully contained-"

"_Please_, understand - I've been through this before," Rose stressed. "This isn't me, creating a drama; this is me, doing my job, defending the Earth. You _must_ believe me. This is a _threat_."

Renee pursed her lips and turned away, striding out of the room. She looked back over her shoulder reluctantly.

"I'll schedule it. They'll be roasting by six AM, our time. But you're doing the explaining to Jon."

----------

Rose watched the rocket launch that evening. There was a moment of hesitation; these weren't the only remnants of that old life that had turned up in those two, slow years, but they were the closest to home-to her last moments and memories of home. Another painful reminder that somewhere else, he was still out there, travelling, parallel, and unreachable. Forever.

"Never say never ever," Rose whispered to herself, watching the rocket shoot into the sky from the observation deck, leaving a silver trail of smoke in its wake, all thirty-eight of the void ships on board.  
He'd told her that once; never say never ever. It felt like a dream now, to Rose, but out of everything they'd been through, those four words were those Rose cherished and clung to.  
_Never say never ever_. He'd meant it as a warning, when he'd said it. But Rose took it in her own context, like a mantra, one that suited the Doctor's attitude on life, which she'd tried to accept for her own.  
Never lose hope.

_"Will I ever see you again?"  
"…You can't."_

Rose could feel the black looks of her colleagues boring into her back. They were furious, confused, scandalised, about Rose's orders to have the void ships destroyed. Rose kept her eyes on the rocket, the voice of her conscience the only reassurance that she was doing the right thing, that she'd had to act, because he wasn't here to save them if they woke up.  
She laughed to herself. He didn't exist here. Time Lords had no parallels. That's why they used to be able to travel to the parallel universes all they wanted to, she'd reasoned. No doubles, triples, quadruples or whatever to inadvertently bump into.

Not that Rose had a double in this universe, unless you counted the bloody dog.

The rocket disappeared. Rose's eyes shifted to her left, to the monitor following the rocket's path. They were still headed for the sun.

There was some more muttering behind her. Rose distinctly heard Adam's voice amongst the rabble say "definitely looks tired".

She shook her head and turned away from the monitor. The cameras would only stay on it until it left the atmosphere, and then she'd have to follow it on B.L.I.P, one of the sentinel spy satellites. And even then, it'd just appear as a little green blip.

She could follow B.L.I.P from home, though.

Her eyes downcast, Rose strode through the wave of onlooking Torchwood employees ignoring their glares, begging her eyes to hold onto the wave of tears she could feel welling in the corners. _Not again, Rose. Not today._

----------

The bitter winter chill bit her cheeks as she stepped outside, and Rose sighed shakily, closing her eyes a moment. That was...too...close.

Her mobile rang; Rose startled, touched her earpiece with shaking fingers, and cleared her throat in an attempt to focus.

"This is Rose," she announced.

"Rose, it's Jon."

_Shit._

"Am I in trouble?" Rose forced a smile, trying to lighten the air (just in case she actually was in trouble) and started walking to the bus stop, lowering her voice. Jon was her kind-of-sort-of boss, and best mates with her dad. "What's the problem?"

"I'm not going to say a word about the 38 spheres, nor the cost of the rocket that was just launched-"

"Well, I believe you jus' did say a word about it, and before you say any more, it had to be done or we'd have-"

"Just hear me out," Jon cut in. "The situation wasn't exactly handled...all that resourcefully, there was a complete lack of benchmark Torchwood protocol and you've created a stack of paperwork for yourself justifying the threat detection -- _but_ you can make it all up to me. I'll even get Adam to field your paperwork while you're onsite."

"Oh, he's gonna _love_ that, what about- oh god," Rose stopped walking, realising. Closing her eyes. "Onsite? You're sending me on a field assignment."

"Don't give me that tone, young one," Jon said in a voice that reminded Rose of her father. Well, of the Pete she'd come to know. "You're getting far too comfortable throwing your weight around in your cushy office and pressed suits. It's time you did some real work, might make you more hesitant to send alien finds into the sun if you've spent weeks digging them up."

"You said you were going to let it go-!"

"That was me, letting it go," Jon cut in again.

Rose sighed as she rounded a corner to wait at the bus stop. "Where am I going?"

"That's the spirit," Jon jibed. "You're on a train to Cardiff tomorrow; Reul will call you in half an hour with travel times. Meet up with Torchwood Three and report back to me what exactly is going on with this bloody rift of theirs. Weird stuff in Swansea — well, they should have been taking care of it, but they've obviously got something more important on. Their reports are getting thinner and sketchier by the day. You'd almost think they didn't want to talk to us."

Rose huffed. Wales, in the morning. Well, why the hell not, even if she indulged the notion that she had a choice in the matter? At least this would get her out of the office and away from Adam and his scathing remarks about the void ships for a couple of days.

"Aye aye, captain," Rose tried to lighten the air.

This honestly felt like one of those awkward punishments that bosses skirted around, assigning a task for the benefit of the other employees.

"That's my girl," Jon replied. Rose could hear his smile follow his voice down the phone line. "See you in a couple of days, then."

Rose just smiled to herself, said her goodbyes, and finished the call.


	2. Snapshot

**Chapter 2: Snapshot.**

_**Author's Notes:** Originally this was going to be entirely Rose's story, but the Doctor in "The Runaway Bride" broke my heart...so here he is. And so, this story will be from both sides of the Void._

* * *

The thought of clearing her room out was almost unbearable. He kept telling himself her room could stay as it was. For the rest of time.

But no, another voice would tell him. It has to be done. If for nothing else, but to help him let her go. Because there was no questioning the matter, as much as he missed her. She was gone. He had to move on.  
His hearts clenched as he surveyed the room; hoodie discarded on her bed, makeup scattered here and there. Mementos of their travels; crystals, earrings, delicate little figurines, a couple of presents for her mum tucked in pink tissue paper. An odd kind of green teddy bear with six eyes.

Just close the door, and leave it, as a reminder of the brave young girl he had travelled with for a while. She might always want her stuff returned one day.

But of course, that wouldn't do. He smiled to himself sadly, ironically, for what had to be the millionth time. She _isn't coming back_. It was impossible.

"Doctor, where are you?" Martha Jones popped her head around the corner, smiling. The Doctor cleared his throat, turning, putting his hands in his pockets.

"Just tidying up a bit," he announced merrily.

Martha cocked her head and raised her eyebrows at him, then walked into the room.

"Need some help?" she continued smiling, ever eager to do something useful. Not quite used to reading the Doctor's mood in his eyes, yet.

Rose would have been able to tell at a glance that he wanted to be left alone- _no, no, stop it,_ he told himself sternly. _Don't start comparing her to Rose. They're different people._

At his hesitation, she'd begun to walk around the room.

"Ah, no, thank you Martha, I'd quite like to do this myself — no, wait-"

She picked up the hoodie from the bed, "It's a bit small for you, isn't it?"

The Doctor looked away, pursed his lips.

Martha had a better look around the room. Makeup. Red trainers. A fuzzy dressing gown behind the door.

"This was her stuff, wasn't it?"

"Is," the Doctor cleared his throat, speaking definitely. "Is her stuff."

"I see," Martha replaced the hoodie on the bed. The Doctor couldn't take his eyes from the grey hoodie, slumped over the bed end like some dead creature that'd had the life beaten out of it.

Martha also put her hands in her pockets, looking around the room, a hint of wariness in her eyes. She stopped at the dressing table.

"She likes a bit of makeup then?" Martha smiled at the plethora of mascaras and eyeliners littering the table.

The Doctor looked down, laughing softly. "That she did."

"Does," Martha smiled encouragingly, turning back to him.

He gave her a genuinely grateful smile, then, and left it at that.

Martha clapped her hands together. "So, what can I do to help?"

Before the Doctor could voice that he'd rather be left to it, Martha was off again, her expression changed. She stopped at the head of the bed.

"What's this?"

_Just leave everything as it is, Martha, this is my task,_ the Doctor thought desperately, closing his eyes.

Martha pulled something shiny out from under Rose's — or what had been Rose's — pillow.

"It's a photograph," Martha announced, a bit softer. "Is that her mum?"

The Doctor didn't need to see the photograph to know. Rose had always missed her mum more than she'd have ever let on. He nodded.

"It's quite a good one of you, too, Doctor," Martha smiled, passing the photo to him.

The Doctor frowned. He was in it? He didn't remember Rose taking any photos of them.

It was Christmas. Oh, of course, that's right. The Tyler living room. The foreground of the photo was taken up by Jackie and Mickey's grinning, slightly flushed faces, Jackie with one of those silly, flimsy paper hats on her head. They looked happy. Drunk, but happy. And there he was himself, standing against the doorframe, glasses on, hands in pockets, and a small smile on his face. Looking straight at the camera. At Rose.

Martha's hand was on his arm.

"Are you all right?" she asked, unsure.

The Doctor gave her a smile, forcing back his tears, again. "Of course."

Martha gave him another look, raising her eyebrows.

The Doctor's smile faltered and he looked back at the photo. "I mean," he said quietly, "it's always tough. Afterwards. But the world keeps spinning, don't I know it," another small smile. "We all live on," he suddenly wished he had a photo of Rose - well, not that he needed one to remember her by. Wishing she had this small one of him, from that Christmas.

"What do you do?" Martha was looking around the room again, "With all their stuff, I mean?" Martha was no stranger to the fact that the Doctor had had many previous travelling partners. He'd felt compelled to make Martha aware of that, when she'd first come on board the TARDIS.

The Doctor wondered if he should warn Martha to not take Rose's _stuff_ so lightly. Only days ago, Rose was here, in this universe, with him. Days. But she had no idea. It wasn't her fault, it was his. Perhaps even, she was the best person to help, to get the job done, with this attitude. To get him back on track and out of these odd, going-nowhere reveries. If only he didn't _miss_ her so much.

Martha was looking at him expectantly. He remembered that she'd asked a question.

"Their stuff," he started, breathing out slowly. "I suppose..."

There was no one to leave it with on Earth.

Martha was trying to read him, he could tell. She had a calculating look in her eyes, a look he expected she usually reserved for her lecturers when they were telling her something she didn't quite believe.  
"We could always leave it here. I mean, you don't have to get rid of it or anything."

The Doctor tucked the photo into his pocket. Cleared his throat. Grinned at Martha. The grin didn't reach his eyes, but she didn't know to look for that, yet.

"You're right," he pressed on, ushering her from the room. "We'll leave it," he was talking too quickly, he knew, but he didn't care. "Leave the past in the past and move forward to the future, or the past, whatever the case may be, in our case."

"What?" Martha laughed a little, moving down the corridor.

The Doctor closed the door to Rose's room, sonicing it locked. He would deal with it later, himself, without Martha, when there was time.


	3. Sir Hank

**Chapter 3: Sir Hank**

* * *

The train to Cardiff left Victoria station at 4am. Despite the haze of the early rise, she wasn't too upset that she'd been shipped to Torchwood Three for a couple of days.

It was more that Jon had sent her away for doing what she knew was right. That, and the bloody bastards booked her on the earliest train possible. Didn't even bother asking her if the time was all right, always assuming that she was married to her job.

Rose mutinously sat back, coffee in one hand, handbag in the other, and watched as the train pulled away from the station. It seemed like the world outside was moving, while she was sitting stationary. Like time was bending around her.

Rose finished her coffee and then set to making herself presentable with a brush, eyeliner and bottle of foundation from her bag. Torchwood Three were known to go light on the office etiquette — they did their job in their jeans. Rose doubted they'd give a toss about her makeup being less-than-average.

Sitting back, vaguely watching the scenery roll by, Rose began to wake up. What a mess she'd have to sort out in a couple of days when she got back to London! Perhaps she had _slightly_ overreacted when Adam had shown her the void ship. It may not have been inhabited by Daleks, either. Could've been empty, or some peaceful being that'd been running away from an oppressive planet or -

_No, no, NO, Rose, don't even think of that_, she told herself. _Enough_.

She forced her mind to wander. It wandered into the Torchwood Three hub.

Torchwood Cardiff was always...an experience. Yes, that was the simplest way of putting it. Doing their job in their jeans, with a pterodactyl flying around the office.  
It was the hub itself that interested Rose more than anything. It reminded her of the Tardis — somehow, it seemed bigger on the inside than it was on the outside. It was cluttered and beautiful, about a million circuits flashing away doing their jobs, a great, glowing spire in the middle of the room with waves of water floating down it like a time vortex.

And anything that reminded Rose of her past was like a drug; addictive, intoxicating, and no doubt bad for her.

_Bleep-bleep-bleep-bleep-_

Rose startled, touching her earpiece and silencing her alarm. 6am.

_They'll be roasting by six AM, our time._

Good. It was done.

-----

"Miss Tyler, it's been too long," Ianto smiled, his lips closed, as Rose walked into the Torchwood front office, shaking fresh rain out of her umbrella.

"Hey sweetheart," Rose hugged Ianto across the desk. There was always an essence of sad seriousness about Ianto that made Rose want to reach out and hug him and tell him it'd be all right. Even if it wasn't going to be.

"It's...good to see you too," Ianto placed his hands on her back.

"Wha's this Miss Tyler nonsense?" she pulled back, grinning.

Ianto shrugged and smiled a little. "Just trying to raise the profile for the big guns."

Rose raised her eyebrows, "I'm a big gun, am I?" she nodded to herself.

Ianto reached down and pressed the door release. "They're expecting you, obviously."

"No sneakin' up on you lot, is there?" Rose looked sideways at Ianto, trying to get a smile out of him. And she just couldn't help herself. That man was far too cute to avoid flirting with. "I thought this'd be a surprise visit," she hung her head in mock disappointment.

Ianto shrugged a little, picking up a takeaway tray of coffees. "Jon called ahead a moment ago and spoilt the surprise. If I'd known sooner I would have had someone pick you up from the station. Come on, I'll take you in."

"Oh, never mind that, I liked the walk," Rose stood at the door, and gave herself a mental slap in the face to get moving and stop gawping when Ianto waved her forward with his free hand.

Rose walked along in silence, Ianto two steps behind her.

"So, how are you yourself?" she tried to engage him.

"Same old," Ianto evaded. "Here we are."

Rose reached the end of the hallway and stood in front of a large, round metal door. Ianto reached over and pressed a pin into a keypad. The door slowly rolled sideways, and suddenly Rose could hear a combination of 80's punk music, static and some sort of unidentified alien humming-buzzing noise.

"Ooh, new door? Showy," Rose nodded, grinning.

"Had it installed recently. There's been a couple of security breaches and the new boss doesn't like people _breaking in_," Ianto supplied, raising his eyebrows on the last two words pointedly.

Rose nodded, missing whatever point he was trying to convey, and walked into the room. She'd heard about this new boss, some loon called Sir Hank or something, who'd transferred from one of their offshore branches. "Sounds sensible. Can't wait to meet him." she lied.

"Don't let the door fool you," Ianto sounded like he was going to start laughing.

Rose looked back to Ianto quickly. "Wha's that mean?"

Ianto smiled again. "He's not _quite_ as sensible as his resume made him seem."

"C'mon, I'm wearing my sensible pants today, I promise," a sharply accented voice called from across the hub from one of its elevations.

Rose froze. _No..._

Ianto looked sideways at Rose with a cheeky eyebrow raise, and stepped forward with the coffee tray.

"Miss Tyler from Torchwood One is here, sir," he announced.

"You again? What'd you do this time?" Owen call from across the room. The curly head of Suzie poked out from behind a pile of monitors and waved to Rose, rolling her eyes at Owen, then went back about her business.

Rose barely noticed the odd greeting. Her throat had closed up a little. _Breathe, Rose, just breathe. You're working._

"This...this new fellow," she cleared her throat and whispered to Ianto, "Sir Hank, righ'-?" her voice cracked a little. "I thought he'd be some English Lord or somethin'. He sounds...well..."

A pair of suited legs made their way down the spiral staircase; Rose couldn't help but stumble forward, to catch a glipse of-.

He stopped in front of her.

"I sound what?" he asked, humour in his voice.

Rose grinned. "Like a no-good con man, tha's what."


	4. Rift Hoppin'

**Chapter 4: Rift-hoppin'**

_**Author's Notes:** This chapter is probably going to confuse, so I apologise in advance…_

* * *

"We've got sparks again!" Martha yelled.

"Ignore them!" The Doctor called over the din the TARDIS was making on re-entry, grabbing a lever with one hand and the fire extinguisher with the other. _Whoops._

"Um, no, sparks are usually bad!" Martha called back from somewhere behind him. He hoped she was hanging on to something bolted to the floor because-

_**THUD!**_

They landed. The shuddering stopped as quickly as it had begun. Martha rushed forward, grabbed the fire extinguisher from him and started spraying foam, just in case.

But the Doctor wasn't so quick to recover. For a moment there — just a moment — everything had tasted blue. He licked his lips. Yeap. Definitely blue, metallic blue. He slid on his glasses, and looked at his monitor, raising an eyebrow.

"Why do I feel like I'm always putting out your fires?" Martha called out in a cheeky voice. "Where'd you land us, then?"

The Doctor barely heard her. Eyebrow still raised, he angled his body so he could see around the centre console, and the door to the TARDIS.

He smirked. _Well well._

The Doctor noticed Martha's sudden look of uncertainty. She'd noticed they weren't alone. Better say something!

"Welcome back, Captain Jack," the Doctor was all smiles, grinning from ear to ear, taking off his glasses and hurrying forward with his arms open.

Jack must have entered the TARDIS during their materialisation, just like Donna had done all those months ago! Clever boy. The Doctor hugged him, noticing before he did that Jack's eyes were slightly misted, but that he, too, was grinning.

"I've found you," Jack was all grins and laughter as he hugged back.

Good. It was always lovely to catch up with old companions again, the Doctor thought, particularly when they were just as happy to see you. This was a very welcome surprise-

"Martha!" he remembered. "Martha this is-" the Doctor started.

"Captain Jack Harkness, it's a pleasure to meet you," Jack introduced himself, still looking quite overwhelmingly happy, eyes sparkling.

"Still at it, I see?" the Doctor smirked again.

"Still just saying hello," Jack answered with another grin.

Martha took an uncertain step forward. Ah. Of course she'd be uncertain. Jack, as Martha had been made vaguely aware, had travelled with Rose and him. And the subject of Rose always made Martha ask more questions that the Doctor didn't want to answer.

"Pleased to meet you, Jack," she held out her hand. The fire extinguisher nozzle was still in it.

Jack and the Doctor laughed. Martha put the extinguisher down with a flush, and then laughed as well. The ice was broken, and the Doctor noticed Martha's eyes relax.

"So, how did you just end up in here?" Martha asked, always full of questions, never caring who she asked or where the answer came from, for that matter.

"The TARDIS must have missed him," the Doctor supplied knowingly, then dashed off toward the console to pick up his overcoat. "She'll pick up whoever she thinks we needs - when it's the right time of course — for them and for us — and here he is! Just as we left him — well, almost-" he waved his hand at Jack.

"Yeah, about that-," Jack started.

"Not the time," the Doctor interjected.

Jack mentally backtracked a little. "Play it your way, as usual. Any idea why the old girl picked me up, then?"

The Doctor shrugged. "Haven't the foggiest. But I can't wait to find out! Where are we?" he shouldered his overcoat and ran for the door.

Jack grabbed his arm. "Ohh, no. We're not going out there."

"Why?" the Doctor asked innocently. "Not even for a peek?"

"What's out there?" Martha asked Jack.

"I couldn't care less. But I've been looking for you-" he pointed a finger at the Doctor's face — the Doctor went cross-eyed focusing on it - "for a long time now. C'mon."  
Jack started back toward the console. The Doctor followed, a little affronted, a little intrigued.

_Please don't start asking me questions I can't answer._

"So, I gather you want me to take you somewhere?" he started conversationally.

"That's right."

"Where?" Martha asked.

"Where do you think?" Jack gave the Doctor a look. "Canary Wharf."

"But — well, why? When?" Martha fired.

The Doctor shook his head. _I know when._ "I can't go back there. Not then."

"You want to go back to the battle, don't you?" Martha realised. "My cousin died that day-"

Jack looked at Martha in disbelief, then back to the Doctor. "You've gotta be kidding me."

"Sorry, what?" Martha's questions were getting tetchier.

Which meant she was really getting confused, and the Doctor knew she didn't like not knowing what was going on. She'd pick it up. She always did. He didn't have time to explain, as usual.

"Nothing," The Doctor was firm. "It's finished, Jack. I can't mess with it."

"Don't you see what's happening?" Jack blinked. "All right, let me explain. The rift - it's never going to close, as long as junk keeps falling through it. You didn't close it, and Rose _died_ on this world for nothing, sucked through like another out of place space junk, pulled into a world where she's not supposed to exist. Do you have any idea what that does to the universe?"

"Yes but she's not _dead_, she's with her family-" the Doctor started, not at all liking Jack's multiple references to Rose as _junk_.

"Wait. It gets bigger than Rose," Jack continued. "Stuff that isn't supposed to exist is falling through to our world all the time, swinging the balance of the universes. More so since the Canary Wharf battle."

"Well! That's probably because of Torchwood breaking it open for their own amusement, I hardly think _Rose_-!" the Doctor crossed his arms.

"What kind of stuff?" Martha sounded interested, cutting in. The Doctor wished she'd not asked.

Jack pointed somewhere that the Doctor supposed was indicating outside the TARDIS. The Doctor couldn't tell if Jack's expression was one of excitement, of horror, or of anger. "This week, I fought Abadon, out there in the streets of Cardiff."

"Abadon?" the Doctor asked, perking up. "Did you beat it?"

Jack gave the Doctor a look and indicated his clearly-still-in-existence self. "Do I look like the living dead?"

The Doctor opened his mouth, raising a finger.

"On second thoughts, don't answer that," Jack cut in.

"What's an abadon?" Martha turned to the Doctor.

"You don't want to know," Jack supplied. "But that's beside the point," he continued. "You have no idea how many people died out there today."

"I'm sorry, Jack. I'm so sorry. But interfering with Rose's future in the past — I _tried_ it with her once before, by accident, did she tell you?" he huffed at Jack, remembering how Rose and he — well, the previous incarnation of he — had visited Pete Tyler in the 80's. Nearly caused the end of the world there that day. He'd been so angry with her. Rose had been all emotion, no sense, those first few weeks.

"We can't go back," the Doctor stressed. He noticed Martha back away a little in the corner of his vision.

"Can't, or don't want to? Why the hell not?" Jack threw his hands up.

"The same reason we couldn't go back to Satellite Five and find you!" the Doctor replied angrily. "We cannot interfere with a timeline that has already had its path determined," he had Jack and Martha's full attention.

"You do it all the time!" Jack retorted.

The Doctor couldn't help but grate his teeth as he continued, trying to control himself. "No. We set things straight. That is all. Otherwise we'd be just as bad as those we fight to stop. Messing with time for my own gain - how _dare_ you suggest such a thing? I could turn this universe upside down to bring her back to me from the past, but I'd destroy you and Martha and your world _and_ Rose's world in the process!"

"But you're missing the _point_!" Jack started eagerly.

Martha huffed. The Doctor turned to her, his eyes flashing. "What?" he snapped.

She shrugged. "It's...just like you told me, isn't it," her eyes fluttered, as she recited. "Crossing into established events is strictly forbidden."

"Exactly," the Doctor grumbled at Jack.

"Except for cheap tricks..." she finished quickly.

_Bugger. I really shouldn't have said that. Why did I say that?_

Jack shook his head, then started to laugh. "Martha, you and I are going to get on famously, I can already tell."

Martha was smiling, looking pleased with herself, like she'd just trumped him.

The Doctor considered. It took only a fraction of a second.  
Jack had been brought back on board the TARDIS for a reason unknown to them, and the first thing he wanted to do was jump back to the Battle of Canary Wharf. Should they follow him? What did he think he could do?

As he considered this, he kept coming back to the inevitable conclusion:

_I can't go back there. That time, sure, but not Canary Wharf. What's the point of going back to the time of the battle, if I can't go to the battle?_

"Of course!" he realised, a grin dawning as Jack's _point_ became clear.

He couldn't go back to the battle. But Jack could.

The Jack-shaped hole in the Doctor's life was filling with a renewed, energetic, exciting life. And if this was what Jack had been brought back for, the Rose-shaped hole in his hearts...well, he didn't want to jump to _too_ many conclusions.

"That's more like it!" Jack grinned. "I stop Rose going through, we might just stop all these weird creatures from dropping through the rift."

"You know, it might not work that way at all," the Doctor looked up at Jack. "And I can't interfere if something goes wrong."

"Hey, it's me," Jack grinned. "I've gotta start somewhere. I'm sure - so sure - that London rift, and our rift in Cardiff are connected, and always have been. Just leave it to me. Get me as close as you can to that rift and I'll do the rest," Jack exuded confidence.

Martha shook her head. "Can someone tell me what it is we're rushing off to do?"

The Doctor grinned over the controls. "Save the universe."

"Save it, or blow it up, by the sounds!" Martha's eyebrows crossed.

"Nothing new for us, eh?" the Doctor, full of energy, flipped the necessary dials and levers to move the TARDIS into the time vortex.

* * *

_A/N: How can Jack be in two places at once? I've been messing with my timeline.  
The question to ask is, is this Jack pre-Pete's world? Or after? I promise, it's all going to make sense soon…_


	5. The Hub

**Chapter 5: The Hub**

* * *

The grinning face of Captain Jack Harkness and his gorgeous, twinkling eyes, greeted Rose. She didn't wait for invitation, or response, flinging her arms around Jack's neck, hugging him as tight as she could. Who cared if he wasn't Jack from her world, he was still, undeniably, _Jack_.

"I told you, that's what everyone does when they meet him," Suzie called over to Owen.

"Well isn't he just the lucky bastard," Owen muttered derisively.

"Pleased to see me?" Jack laughed, hugging her back.

"Oh my god Jack, it is you?" Rose pulled away quickly, holding his shoulders and squaring him up. "Please — before I go mad - tell me you're my Jack, from-"

Jack nodded.

"Sir Hank?" She raised an eyebrow.

Jack shrugged, grinning back, his teeth sparkling. "Good a name as any."

"Did he send you?" The lump in her throat was rising, and she cleared her throat again. "Did he...is he ok?"

The fire in Jack's eyes dimmed somewhat. "He didn't send me, Rose. I came by myself."

She shook herself. "Right," she laughed a little, out of nervousness. There had to be more to it than that. This was Jack, though, he wasn't exactly going to tell her everything here and now. She'd get it out of him. "So," she smiled coyly, tilting her head a little, "how did you get here, then?"

Her inner child was revelling. This was fantas...wonderful! She never thought she'd see him again!

"You'd never believe me," Jack renewed his sideways grin, crossing his arms. "Let's just say I floated down-stream with the rest of the trash."

"You are _not_, Jack," Rose hugged him again — she couldn't stop herself - laughing, closing her eyes and — nope, she couldn't help it — breathing in his smell. "You're the treasure amongs' the trash, you are."

Rose remembered that she was supposed to be working, noticing Suzie watching their reunion with question marks behind her eyes. She let go of Jack reluctantly.

"We can catch up after work — after you," she poked him in the shoulder - "tell me how our gamma team dug up a bunch of void ships under your nose?"

Rose could hear Owen's curse from across the room.  
"Language!" Jack called back.

"The rift's been focussing," Suzie called out, "for longer periods of time. Longer than before, at least. That's how."  
Rose held her breath. Had Jack rode the rift here, somehow? The cogs in her brain were turning — but she made herself listen, for once in her life, rather than jump to impossible, shattering conclusions.

Rose locked eyes with Suzie. "I didn' think your rift worked tha' way--"

"Tosh'll show you," Suzie pointed to Toshiko, to their far right. Rose could see the blue swirls and black and white code of Tosh's rift monitoring program from across the room. She didn't need to be told twice, moving towards the hum and glow. Jack followed. Toshiko shrugged as she pulled a second chair towards her desk.

"Nice to see you too," Toshiko remained smile-less as Rose sat down, all business as usual. Rose tried a small smile in reply.

"Here we are then, south Wales," Toshiko moved her mouse around at a speed that even Mickey would have found difficult to match, "and your vein-like formation of white lines indicate strong points."

"You are jokin'," Rose couldn't take her eyes off the map. There was Swansea, on the left of the map, sporting a number of bright white gashes, like a monster had raked it's claws through it.

"We don't joke," Tosh replied. "Not about the rift."

Rose had to keep herself from rolling her eyes. "Sorry. So, what was with the sphere's gamma dug up there?"

"Junk," Jack was close behind Rose, making her startle slightly.

"Sorry," Jack put a hand on Rose's shoulder, then moved it, pointing to the monitor again. "We found seven of the spheres near Abergavenny on Tuesday, and ninety in Cardiff city alone. They're dead. Space junk. Like me," he grinned.

Rose looked back to Jack, screwing up her eyes. "Why didn't you tell us about this? London, I mean."

Jack shrugged. "It's junk. We took care of it. What was Torchwood One doing in Swansea?" he crossed his arms, leaning against Toshiko's desk.

Rose shrugged.

Toshiko waited a moment for Rose to continue. When she didn't; "So, why are you here?"

"Punishment. I dunno," Rose looked back at Jack and did a double take as she noticed his wrist band. He'd always worn that, and she'd always wondered at it. She remembered on Satellite 5, he'd programmed Robbie Williams into it when-

"Holy crap, Jack," Rose was still looking at the wrist band. "How did you get here?"

Jack looked confused, "I've already answered this-"

"No, no listen to me. You're dead. I mean-I know he said you were fixin' the world or somethin', but I thought it was jus' to shut me up at the time, and I remember, you died-" she babbled, trying to connect the dots.

"I'm not dead," Jack cut her off.

"But, you were dead," Rose stood, looking pleadingly into Jack's eyes. "Then..."

Rose thought back desperately. Everything about those last minutes on Satellite Five were hazy. Always had been.

"I lived," Jack placed his hands on her shoulders.

Rose shook the hazy memories from her mind, realising that she'd shook a couple of warm tears onto her cheek in the process.

"Oh my..." Rose tried to back away, but Jack held her shoulders, looking into her eyes, forcing her mind back with his stare.

"...how did you get here, Jack?" Rose gasped.

Jack pursed his lips. "Okay. I can tell this is a bit of a shock. Perhaps I shouldn't have just shown up-"

"No, please," Rose forced herself to focus. She needed answers, not emotions. Toshiko moved in the corner of her vision.

Rose looked to Tosh quickly. She _always_ had answers.

"Tosh, how did he get here? Please? I need to...I need," Rose cleared her throat, desperately trying to think. "Did you lot find him?"

"Rose," Jack said softly, before Toshiko could react. Rose turned back slowly.

"Rose, you can't go back. Not ever."

Rose closed her eyes again, looked down. "He said that to me. He said, that I couldn't go through. That he couldn't come through."

Jack nodded.

"But you can? That isn't fair." Rose raised her eyes again. "Tell me how you got here, Jack."

Jack lifted his eyes to the other Torchwood Three members. Rose barely noticed their embarrassed movement as they broke their focus on the pair.

---

"Oh my god," Rose stepped forward quickly into Jack's office, picking up an object on his desk.

Jack crossed his arms and leaned against the door frame. "It's my TARDIS key."

Rose let the tardis key fall from her fingers, as her eyes sweep over the other bits and pieces on the desk. Pieces of Jack's past, some from her history. Look, there was a gas mask…had to have been from the 40's…

Balefully aware the glass walls and cameras weren't hiding anything from the rest of the team Rose looked, begging, to Jack.

"Please tell me how you got through," she sat by the desk. "This…all this stuff you have here from our world. You _planned_ this."

Jack nodded.

Rose turned back to the desk. "How are things? At home?"

Jack shrugged. "Busy. Same as here, by the looks."

Rose nodded idly, picking up the TARDIS key from Jack's desk again, turning it over in her hands a couple of times. Silent.

Jack moved and sat at his desk, looking at Rose for a reaction.

"We're not going to get any work done, are we?"

"What?" Rose snapped to attention.

"You," Jack sat back a little.

Rose piped up a little too quickly, shaking her fringe out of her eyes. "No, it's just odd, that's all, first the void ships, now you," she smiled. "I'm fine," lying.

"So, we can get on with it?"

"Get on with what?"

"This," Jack passed a sheaf of documents to Rose.  
Rose sat a bit straighter to read it.

"What's this then?"

"A transfer," Jack kept his eyes on Rose. "It was sent through this morning."

Rose skimmed the document, put it back on his desk, her heart sinking a little. It really was a demotion, of a sorts. All her stuff — her family — were in London. How could Jon do this to her?

Her eyes glance to the top of the document again — wait a second, it was _from_ Jack. _To_ Jon.

"You asked for this?" she looked up quickly.

Jack shrugged. "I've worked with you before."

"Yeah, but that was a bit different-"

"How?" Jack's eyes gleamed.

Rose glared up at him. "Because we had the Doctor with us then."

"And now, he's gone," Jack fired quickly. "And I'm here, giving you an opportunity to study the Cardiff rift, and work with an old friend. Is that so bad?"

Rose considered a moment. There really was no choice, not really, Torchwood didn't work like that. Once you signed on, they owned you, and you went where they wanted you to go.

Then a spark in her mind; reminding her that she was sitting next to _Captain Jack Harkness_, whom she'd thought she'd never see again. Jack knew how to get through to this world; Jack would know how to get back home. All she had to do was watch, and listen, and learn. Maybe that's why he wanted her; to help her get home, where she belonged.

But...if Jack had found a way through, why hadn't the Doctor?

Throwing her doubts and cautions to the wind, "Goodbye London,"she signed the transfer.

Jack grinned. "See, was that so painful?"

Rose shook her head, not trusting her voice.

"Great," he nodded, glancing at the papers. "Let's go," he started for the door.

Rose didn't move from her seat. "Um, Jack? One question?" she had to know.

Jack leaned back through the door from the outter office. "I can't guarantee I'll be able to answer you."

"Please, it's important," she bit her bottom lip. "Did you see him? Did...was he looking for me? Or has he...moved on? Forgotten..." she couldn't finish, and let the words fade.

Jack's eyes were fierce, his lips a straight line.

Rose made herself match his gaze, wondering at the lack of joy in this Jack's life. The old Jack — well, the younger Jack — had seemed so much more...fancy-free?

"Yes," his eyes were bright, and still so very fierce. "And, I don't know," he answered finally.Turned from the room.  
Rose followed, a lump in her throat, feeling a little jaded, a little frustrated, and quite a bit excited. She'd find out how he did it. Jack was the key.

It'd just take some time to get answers out of him.


End file.
